CATCH THAT SHIBE

Tierce Theatre

Sunday, June 7th, at around 23:30, Tierce was not feeling well. Hunched over, shaking, panting, didn’t want food, didn’t want to walk. Took him to Central Island Veterinary Emergency Hospital where, after several hours, he ended up with a diagnosis of pancreatitis.

Tierce: I hurt.

Me: Normally he would be trying to claw his way through the door to get out, but he’s not even doing that much.

Vet: Well, let’s have some X-rays and a blood panel.

Tierce: Do not care. All is gone. Hurt.

Vet Tech: Okay, now were just going to lay you down on this table and take a little picture, okay?

Me: Well, people thought differently back then. Dominance theory was probably the best explanation people had for dog behaviour.

Tierce: ‘Back then’? You were born in the seventies, weren’t you?

Me: Well… yeah.

Tierce: How old are you?

Me: Let’s move on. Hey, you can tell this was made in the seventies.

Tierce: Aside from the cover?

Me: Yeah. First, look at this.

Tierce: That seems awfully specific. Hey, it says that I can have tobacco and liquor if prescribed by a vet.

Me: Uh, no.

Tierce: But beer tastes really good.

Me: What? When did you drink beer?

Tierce: When we visited those friends of yours and someone spilled a Bud Light on the porch.

Me: That’s what that was?

Tierce: I actually liked the Canadian better.

Me: What?

Tierce: Someone else spilled that later.

Me: No beer!

Tierce: In dog years, I’m well above the age of majority.

Me: No. No beer, no hamsters, no dead birds.

Tierce: A predator is ever aware of opportunity.

Me: Hey, this guy has a solution for that.

Tierce: That’s considerate of him to make sure a snack is always within my reach. And I can perfume the house with it. Like air freshener.

Me: That’s never happening.

Tierce: Aww.

Me: He doesn’t seem to have a good opinion of attack trained dogs.

Tierce: Neither do I. You have a 99% less chance of getting treats if you bite people, so they tell me.

Tierce: Holy shit, is that really what happens?

Me: Not in my experience. I have no idea who this guy was chumming around with, but that’s not how RCMP dogs are trained. And the Schutzhund people I know don’t do that; they say that associating protection training with negative reinforcement is the exact wrong thing to do.

Me: Yeah. Sometimes, it is. But if we all thought like dogs, we would forget those who mean the most to us. And we couldn’t tell other people how much they meant or do things with our lives to remember them.

Tierce: I thought that some dogs grieve for their people or other dogs they were close to.

Me: They say that and there’s evidence that it is true.

Tierce: It must feel like there’s an empty place that can’t be filled by other people or other dogs.

Me: Yes, that’s how it feels for a lot of people and, I suppose, dogs.

Tierce: I’m glad I don’t have anyone like that in my life. Imagine how sad it would be to lose someone you truly care about.

Me: Uh, I’m happy for you. Really.

Tierce: What happens when you have a space in your life you can’t fill?

Me: You live around it until eventually it becomes part of you, part of your life.

Tierce: Then you replace it with another dog?

Me: It is said that there can be no replacements, only successors. No dog can replace another. They can succeed them, but each dog is different and therefore special.

Mischa: I think it’s the Prednisone he’s on.* Now that it’s fall, we can cut him down to 1 pill a day.

Me: That’s a good idea. Maybe then he won’t go on scavenging missions for our Wendy’s food wrappers.

Tierce: I’m hungry.

Me: How would you like a nice, crispy apple?

Tierce: Um. I want your Chinese food more.

Me: Just try it.

Tierce: No.

Mischa: Try eating a piece. I read somewhere that dogs prefer eating what they see people eat.

Me: I don’t think that me eating a piece of apple will convince Tierce to eat a piece of apple.

Mischa: Give him a piece.

Tierce: What’s this?

Me: The fount of all things good.

Mischa: It’s a yummy apple, Tierce.

Me: He’s not gonna eat it. He’s just pushing it around the floor with his nose… well, I’ll be damned.

Mischa: See?

Tierce: Well, it can’t be that bad. I mean, you ate it.

Me: Huh. Want another?

Tierce: Sure.

Me: I guess it really works.

Mischa: Bring the bowl into the living room. He won’t want to eat the slices when he gets a whiff of what we’re eating. But, if we hand him pieces of apple when he begs us for Chinese food, he won’t know the difference.

Me: Okay, that I don’t believe.

Tierce: That smells way better than this crispy shit. Can I have some of that?

Me: Uh, sure. Here you go.

Tierce: ‘Dis tastes a ‘ot ‘ike apple.

Me: It’s sweet and sour pork, I swear. Have another.

Tierce: Yay! Wait…

Me: I can’t believe this. He’s really buying it.

Mischa: I told you.

Tierce: You know, I think you’re trying to sell me something… I’m going over to see Mischa.

Mischa: Here you go.

Tierce: What’s that?

Mischa: Ginger beef.

Tierce: That smells a lot like apple.

Mischa: Well, it’s special ginger beef. Apple ginger beef.

Tierce: Well… okay.

Me: This is awesome. I can’t believe we haven’t tried this before. I’m going to try carrots next.

Tierce: I hate carrots.

Me: Not when we market them as cheese puffs!

*Tierce is on Vanectyl-P for his seasonal allergies, which are vicious. Yes, we’ve changed his diet. Multiple times. Yes, we’ve tried Atopica. Yes, we’ve had him tested. This is just what works. For now. Yes, I am aware of the health issues. Why, yes, I have gotten lectured by multiple people about how it’s evil and bad and will kill him some day.

This post was brought to you in part by the Shiba Prom Haiku Contest, which Tierce won.

Tierce: I am never going along with any of your crackpot schemes again!

Me: Don’t knock yourself. You’re a very talented poet.

Tierce: Burn in hell!

It was also brought to you in part by Filthy Farmdog soap.
Tierce was less than impressed by the whole contest winning experience. However, I was thrilled.
And, because I’m an evil dog owner who wants Tierce to suffer, I was ecstatic to make use of the Filthy Farmdog soap for the first time.
Tierce was not impressed.
But I was.
And the results were worth the damage to Tierce’s psyche

Tierce: Looks like a paper bag. On the floor. Yep, that’s what it is. A paper bag on the floor.

Me: Correction. It used to be a paper bag. Now it is a soggy collection of cellulose. On the floor.

Tierce: I don’t see what this has to do with me.

Me: Did this bag contain the slice of carrot cake I brought from the farmers market today?

Tierce: I really couldn’t say. Dog memory, you know. Very short.

Me: This was going to be my breakfast tomorrow.

Tierce: You really should eat healthier. And it’s more convenient for you; I don’t really like apples.

Me: So the mystery of you pooping four times has now been solved.

Tierce: You really have the most amazing powers of deduction.

Me: Let’s get one thing straight. Food in bags is mine. You will not touch anything that is in a bag. You will not eat anything that is wrapped in anything. You will not seek to take that which is mine.

Tierce: Uh, sure. Wait, what about the stuff you don’t want?

Me: What do you mean, ‘the stuff I don’t want’?

Tierce: Well, you throw stuff in the garbage all the time. You don’t want it. So I figure, that means that I can-

Oh hai, doggy

If you’re on the TMS Facebook, you’ll know that we’re all still here. Battered, bruised, tired as fuck, but we’re all here. TMS kind of takes a backseat to everything when there’s a health issue or a financial crisis or whatever. Fortunately, due to the auspices of fate and friends and connections, it turns out that we’re keeping going and the humans, at least, are holding on. Which is why…